The Curse of the Green Eyes
by smilexfitch
Summary: Her mother has always hated her. Her brother is a bully. Her cousin is the Boy Who Lived. And the wolf lies in Askaban. The existance of a female Dursley will change everything as we know it. AU.
1. Births

**Chapter 1 – Births**

**Disclaimer: All characters you recognise belong to JK etc...**

A stout, red faced man paced up and down the length of his office while fiddling with the rather large, brown moustache hanging from his upper lip. He then paused for a second, and scanned each of the four lifeless grey walls as if searching for something to curb his attention. Anyone watching would know how Mr Dursley was feeling, yet Mr Dursley did not know it himself. At least he wouldn't admit it. It was up to the women to feel nervous about trivial matters such as this.

* * *

Petunia was a little upset when Vernon decided not to be with her when the baby was born, but the part of her mind she believed to be rational rapidly reassured her that it was the only proper thing for him to do. She should not be seen in the state she would be in while giving birth. That was why none of her friends had come to the hospital with her either. Her relatives were also not present, but she wouldn't want them there even if they paid her. Okay, well **maybe **if they paid her but not otherwise. She sighed heavily, and another contraction was soon underway. She was only beginning labour and the contractions were agony. _But I guess, _she thought to herself,_ I will have a different opinion of agony after today._

* * *

Vernon had been behaving in much the same way all day, and his colleagues at Grunnings had soon worked out what was going on since they knew Petunia was nine months pregnant. Vernon had been looking at a faded mustard coloured stain on his office wall, pretending it was this that he was really interested in. He pretended he was actually thinking about the dreadful standard of cleaners these days, and he was about to call and complain, when the phone rang. His enormous hands were sweaty by now, so it took him longer than he would have liked to grab hold of the receiver.

"Hello! Vernon – is that you?"

He recognised Petunia's voice immediately – as he should, she was his wife after all.

"Yes, Petunia. It's me. Has the baby been born yet?"

Vernon was trying to sound interested, but not like he had been worrying all day.

"Yes! Oh, it's a boy, darling! With beautiful blonde curls and little blue eyes!"

She was speaking in a very excited tone sounded like she was struggling to string her words together properly.

Vernon was about to speak when Petunia cut him off, "Oh, he's like a baby ang…"

He said laughing, "Ang? What's an ang, Petunia?"

There was no answer. Vernon decided to wait on the line rather than rushing over, as work didn't finish for another hour, and he knew people would talk if he left early.

* * *

The hour had chosen to pass slowly but it was now five o' clock. And Petunia had not called back. After a short drive, Vernon stomped into the maternity ward of St John's Hospital. His watery eyes were bulging out of his sockets far more than they usually did.

"Could I have the room details for my wife? Petunia Dursley?"

* * *

The pain had subsided again. Petunia let out a sigh of relief, and then shouted while being careful not to swear so as not to hurt her reputation, "What was that?"

The oldest doctor, smiled awkwardly at her. She glared back.

"Well, Mrs Dursley. It seems we have made some - some huge mistakes."

"What? Is there anything wrong with me? Is there anything wrong with my son?"

He shook his head furiously.

"No, no, no. Nothing like that! It seems you were carrying twins."

She stared at him for a second in complete disbelief.

"Where is my other child?"

"She's just being cleaned up. She will be brought out as soon as possible, Mrs Dursley, I promise."

The other baby was out as he finished his sentence. Petunia smiled. _Having twins won't be that bad. Now I have one of each anyway. _The girl was placed in her arms and Petunia looked at her lovingly. At least - she looked at her lovingly until she registered what her second child actually looked like. Then her expression switched to one of horror. One lone tear somersaulted down Petunia's cheek. Vernon appeared at the doorway.

Petunia paused before bursting out the big news.

"I had twins Vernon."

"I know. I was told by one of the doctors. Apparently the doctor doing your check-ups, Dr Wheeze, was not actually qualified."

"He wasn't?"

Petunia was half horrified and half excited. She loved gossip and to her the situation was almost like being in one of her favourite soap operas. Vernon on the other hand was very angry. If 'Dr Wheeze' had of been there Vernon probably would have knocked him out.

"No. I've already warned the hospital that unless we get some sort of compensation we are going to complain. Apparently this man got the job even though he said his qualifications were from Bogwarts School for Stupid Muggle Twits!"

Petunia let out a wail.

"Bogwarts School for Stupid Muggle Twits," she said whimpering. She was now looking down at the baby in her arms with a look of pure hatred.

"Bogwarts School! Muggles! Haven't you realised, Vernon! **Hogwarts** is the school my freak of a sister went to, and **muggles **is what wizards call us, people without magic. That's how that man got the job – he was from my sister's twisted little world. He probably knows her and her horrible husband."

Vernon became completely silent. His wife hated magic, but he wanted nothing to do with it at all. He found it much easier to pretend it didn't exist. There was a moment of silence while both parents tried to erase any thoughts of magic from their heads. Petunia was still looking at her daughter – and more specifically – her daughter's pure, perfect, untainted **blue **eyes. They were the only hope she had right now.

_Stay blue forever._

* * *

_Dear Lily and James,_

_How are you both? __**We**__ are very well at the moment. Vernon has been promoted to managing director at Grunnings and on the 22__nd__ June our twins were born. Yes – twins, one boy and one girl, we didn't know either (thanks to a 'Dr Wheeze' who we think might be a friend of yours.). However, they are both beautiful._

_Pictures are enclosed._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Vernon and Petunia Dursley_

Lily rolled her eyes. James looked over and smiled gently.

"Another brag letter from your sister?"

"She doesn't deliver anything less!"

"She's just jealous because she doesn't have a husband as devilishly handsome as me," he said laying his head back so he looked as cool as possible, or at least so he thought he did.

Lily ignored his last comment and opened the envelope wider, tipping out the enclosed photographs mentioned in the letter. She looked through each one of the eight photos slowly.

"They are all of the boy," she murmured to herself.

"Pardon?"

She handed James the photographs and he started laughing uncontrollably.

"Why have they sent you **eight** muggle pictures of a giant pink beach ball wearing different hats?"

Lily resisted the urge to laugh and instead replied, "That's their son James!"

"Should have guessed with her giant lug of a husband. Our son will be much better looking, don't worry."

He put him arm around her and patted her swelled belly fondly. She was nine months pregnant now. Lily didn't return his affection though – she was too focused on the letter.

"James, they had twins. One boy and one girl. Doesn't it seem odd to you that they have only sent us pictures of their son?"

"Maybe one of those pictures is of their daughter, and unfortunately she looks just like her brother."

Lily scowled at him, so James gave her a proper hug.

He also tried to reassure her, "They probably just forgot to put all the pictures in. I wouldn't make a big deal about it."

"No, James. I know my sister. She is the most organised person ever. She would never forget to put the photographs in."

"Organisation runs in the family then."

Lily hit him gently on the arm.

"James, there is a reason she hasn't put pictures of her daughter in. And we are going to find out what it is."

James groaned loudly.

* * *

But they wouldn't find out that day. Because that day, 31st July 1980, fate had something different planned.

Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew all rushed over and James was beaming at her. It felt good to know they were all there for her to lean on at a time like this.

* * *

"He's truly beautiful – not like that beach ball boy of your sister's," James whispered cradling the sleeping boy.

"Don't be silly. All babies are beautiful," Lily replied although silently she was agreeing with him.

"He's going to have your eyes, Lily."

"How can you tell? They are a sparkling blue now – they could end up any colour."

"I think any colour is a bit of an exaggeration," James said, pretending to sound exasperated. Lily poked him.

"No, look. They are almond shaped just like yours."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they will end up green."

"Not necessarily, but I bet you a sickle they will."

"You're on."

James looked surprised that Lily had agreed, but he put his son in his cradle and gave Lily his hand to seal the bet. They both then stopped talking for a while, something rare in the Potter household since their relationship was mostly based on friendly arguments. They were both watching their child sleep. They were enthralled by each time his chest rose and fell when he breathed, enthralled each time he moved one of his perfect little fingers or toes. Enthralled by how much they could love someone they had only known for a couple of hours. James broke the silence.

"What shall we call him?"

"I don't know."

Silence fell again, and again James broke it.

"James Jr?"

"No, we are **not **calling our son James Jr."

"Why not?"

By this point Lily wasn't sure if James was serious or not.

"How about his middle name is James?"

James thought for a second and then nodded.

"I think that will suit him perfectly."

Lily smiled and said quickly, "But – then I get to pick his first name."

James said loudly, and clearly without remembering that he was not supposed to wake the sleeping boy, "**What?** Why would I agree to that?"

Lily raised her finger to her pursed lips signalling him to be a bit quieter, then put her arm around him and said, "Good to know that's settled. I want to call him…Draco."

James pulled away from her, "Draco? No son of mine is going to have a stupid name like Draco. I mean Sirius's name is bad enough but his parents are stuck-up pure blood ars-"

He stopped ranting when he noticed Lily stifling huge amounts of laughter.

"You're not serious, are you?"

Lily giggled and asked rhetorically, "What do you think?"

"So what do you really want to call him?"

She bit her lip nervously. She hoped James would see how much this name meant to her.

"I want to call him Harry," she said looking down at the floor, "my dad was called Harry."

There was another pause and she noticed James staring at her lovingly. He kissed her lightly and then said looking into the cradle, "Welcome to the world, Harry James Potter."

Lily too looked down into the cradle.

_I know it's wrong to wish for a child to look a certain way. But I do wish you inherit my eyes. Welcome to the world, Harry James Potter._

**Hope you liked it - would really appreciate any reviews. Even flames if you have to!**


	2. Afternoon Tea

**Chapter 2 - Afternoon Tea**

Number 5 Privet Drive had been continuously loud for over a month now. The neighbours were very worried about the two new arrivals, as there had to be something wrong for them to be making that amount of noise.. Another detail that interested the neighbours was that no one, not a single one of them, had seen the Dursleys' new daughter. They had paraded the son, Dudley, to everyone who showed any remote signs of caring. Actually, to be fair, he was also paraded to those who didn't care at all. But not the daughter. They hadn't even told anyone what her name was.

* * *

At six o'clock the Dursley family were woken to one of Dudley's famous tantrums. The day before, Vernon had gone out specifically to buy him a new rattle because he kept screaming every time he was given his old one, but now Dudley kept throwing it out of his crib repeatedly. Petunia watched as the girl shook Dudley's old rattle ecstatically, smiling each time she shook it hard enough for it to produce its monotonous shuffling sound. The girl stopped playing as she realised Petunia was approaching. Petunia bent down, until she was staring directly into the child's almond shaped eyes. She analysed every little detail of the girl's irises meticulously before standing up straight again.

_Still getting darker._

Petunia took a deep breath, something she often did when she needed to gather herself. She normally only did this when she needed to protect her reputation, but now she was doing it to convince herself that this had nothing to do with any other special talents the girl might acquire later in life.

_She's not going to be one of them._

In a sudden rage, she snatched the rattle out of the girl's tiny hand and placed it in Dudley's significantly larger one. She flew out the room and down the stairs, ignoring the girl's startled cries.

"That girl will stop crying if she knows what's good for her," Vernon growled, shaking his fist wildly in the air. He didn't like to be woken early on Sundays, so was even more bad tempered than usual.

"A letter from your sister, Petunia," Vernon growled, shaking his head in disapproval at how this particular letter had arrived.

Petunia forced a very unconvincing smile, and stretched her elongated neck uncomfortably while tearing the envelope open.

_Dear Vernon and Petunia,_

_We are very well, thank you. Our first son, Harry James Potter was born on the 31st July – the same day we happened to receive your letter. We are over the moon. You are right, your son is beautiful, but we are also eager to see your daughter. And we are sure you are more than eager to meet Harry! We must get together sometime – how about a week from now, the 8th of August?_

_Love,_

_James and Lily Potter_

_P.S. Did Dr Wheeze have red hair and freckles by any chance?_

Petunia's face was purple by the time she had finished the letter, but she began penning a reply immediately.

* * *

_Dear Lily and James,_

_I'm sorry, but we are extremely busy at the moment. Vernon has his job, of course, and I am working from home currently so I will not be able to leave the house for a very long while. So, the long and short of it is, we cannot get together any time soon._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Petunia Dursley_

_P.S. He did have red hair and freckles._

Petunia did not want to see her sister, especially now.

Lily read Petunia's letter to James. Well, and Harry, but she didn't really expect him to be listening.

"Looks like they really do not want to see us," James said, and Lily detected a slight tone of happiness in his voice. It was to be expected really though, James liked the Dursleys as much as the Dursleys liked him.

"You don't know that. They might just genuinely be really busy," Lily lied.

James was looking down at the smiling boy in his arms, and Lily knew he hadn't listened to what she had just said.

"You notice they didn't ask about Harry, or congratulate us or anything."

"You think my sister and her husband are actually more caring than they pretend to be. To them, Harry's birth just means there is another disgusting freak in the world."

"They wouldn't think that if they met him," James said, while lovingly running his hand through Harry's already thick black hair.

Lily also patted Harry's head and said slyly, "They are going to have to meet him then. Petunia said she couldn't leave the house, so how about - we go there."

James groaned again.

* * *

"Dudley's still hungry, dear! Please could you get me some more baby food," Petunia called in her fleeting high voice.

Vernon grunted, and took her the pot he had been about to feed to the girl. The kitchen was too far for him to go. Petunia didn't bat an eyelid when she was given the girl's food, actually this was something of a regular occurrence. Petunia was happy, as she had no more reminders of the existence of the magical world, her sister hadn't tried to arrange to see them and she had got more spying done this week than usual. It all made up for a relaxing – and perfectly normal Saturday. Or so she thought.

The doorbell rang. Vernon gestured for Petunia to get it, even though she was feeding Dudley, and he was only watching television. She scurried over to the door swiftly and looked out the window to see who was there. There wasn't anybody.

_Oh well, probably just some horrible children playing Knock Down Ginger._

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and what sounded like shattering glass. Then a surprisingly high pitched screech, one she recognised immediately as coming from Vernon. The noises were coming from the living room.

"Relax, it's no big deal," said a male voice.

"No big deal! You broke our TV! I hope you are going to pay for it," Vernon yelled.

"I'll do better than that."

"No! Don't!"

"What?"

"No funny business. Please, please put that thing away now!" Vernon was squealing, and that must mean only one thing. Lily and James had arrived.

Petunia scuttled into the living room, more dreading than frantic. Her watery eyes scanned the room, flickering in the way they did when she was peeping over the fence at her neighbours. However, this time she did not need to. Her sister's husband was grinning inanely, pointing a small stick of dark wood at the television. Her sister was standing looking at her as she entered. Petunia's eyes flickered once again, until they landed on the small bundle in Lily's arms. Their son, Harry.

_No doubt our father would be pleased to have a __**wizard**__ named after him._

"What the hell are you doing entering our house uninvited! You have the nerve to just **appear **here with yo-"

James interrupted her, in the uncivilised way she was used to expecting from him.

"Actually, we did ring the doorbell."

Lily snorted, and even Harry started to clap his hands wildly.

Lily stepped forward, challenging her sister.

"You said you couldn't come to see us at the moment – so we thought we would come and visit you."

"Yes, we couldn't come because we were busy! We are still busy here!"

"You don't look very busy," Lily's tone was almost as venomous as Petunia's.

"Well we are. And even if we weren't, you can't just appear uninvited. You can't disturb our children, and break our television!"

James rolled his eyes and sighed, "Well I don't get what you muggles see in these, but – _**reparo!**_" Vernon hurried backwards as each little piece of the broken screen rose up into the air, and then landed in its correct place. The newly fixed TV then placed itself back onto its stand.

Lily smiled. Magic still excited her, even though it was part of her everyday life. Conversely, Petunia looked away disapprovingly.

"Do you want to hold Harry?"

Petunia knew she didn't but Harry was already in her arms before she could object. She looked down at his charcoal coloured hair with disgust, and then noticed his eyes. This was when she practically threw him back to Lily. Lily frowned, seeming to know what Petunia was thinking, but her mind was elsewhere.

"Where are the twins?"

"They're, they're in the dining room. We were just feeding them."

"Good. I can't wait for them to meet Harry."

Vernon growled from the uncomfortable position he had taken up on the floor. Petunia forced her lips into a very unconvincing smile, and replied coldly, "And I can't wait for them to meet him."

* * *

"This must be Dudley," Lily said excitedly, but didn't dare to pick him up. Petunia had run between her and the baby to prevent her from getting any closer to her golden boy. James laughed, maybe at Petunia's behaviour or more likely at Dudley's appearance. The pictures had not lied. Dudley certainly did look like a beachball, his lack of neck making him appear almost completely circular. His face was much wider than Harry's, and was very red from all the tantrums he threw. Lily did noted the two large empty pots of baby food on his high chair, which seemed to explain Dudley's colossal size.

Always the polite one, Lily said that Dudley was a beautiful baby. James commented that he was sure to look just like his dad when he was older.

'Where's your daughter, Tuny?" Lily was brave enough to venture to use her childhood name for her sister. Petunia glared at her, and silently pointed to the corner of the room.

Lily didn't understand why she hadn't seen the child as soon as she had entered the room. She was very clearly there, it was not as if she was hidden away. Yet Lily had to have her existence pointed out to her. _How can you not see a child? _Living under Dudley's weighty shadow had obviously had an effect on the girl. She was left out of the photos and now it appeared she was left out at home as well. Vernon would have wanted a boy, and so the girl had simply been left out. _Nothing that simple sibling rivalry wouldn't sort out._ Lily repeated it over and over again in her head.

But the truth was, the closer Lily got to the child the more she knew this wasn't true. The more she knew this would never be true. The baby was brilliantly formed, with the proportions of Harry rather than the proportions of her unfortunately sized brother. The perfect curves of her tiny face were fixed in a position of calm, calm that stretched beyond her few days in this world. She was a beautiful, normal baby shining with all the hope a baby brings. But Lily saw she had a terrible curse, a curse that would place a stigma upon her her whole life. James noticed this as well, and Lily could almost sense his lips curling into a smile.

**I know I've been a little bit vague about the baby's secret, but that's the point! If you haven't guessed already - it will be in the next chapter!**

**Again please review if you can!**


	3. Lily

**Chapter 3 - Lily**

The girl's head was covered in a sheet of curls, thicker than the ones covering Harry's head, however they were a deep red. They seemed to Lily to shimmer. They were the only hint of magic in this dull, modernized brick of a house, probably the only hint in the uniform estate. Lily had a sudden urge to grasp the child firmly in her arms, to comfort her, to tell her everything was all right. She wanted the child to know she hadn't done anything wrong. For how can a child of that age do anything wrong. When she finally picked her up, she noticed Petunia's face remained expressionless. She didn't even try to stop her. And that was why Lily never wanted to let go.

James peeked over Lily's shoulder after noticing that as Lily pulled the baby in closer, their hair seemed almost to become one. James reached out and patted the baby on the head, making sure not to let go of his Harry of course, and she beamed. Her newly lit up face revealed something new to James, and leaning in closer, his face lit up as well.

Alerted to her eyes' shape and nature, he said under his breath, "Brilliant."

"What was that?" James had startled Petunia, just enough for her to come out of her petrified state.

"Beautiful, I said she's beautiful," James said.

There was a short silence while Petunia flashed James a fake smile, and she then she forced out, "Of course, of course."

"What is her name?"

Lily had chimed in, half knowing she had asked a question that was uncomfortable for her sister. A wave of silence followed, one that lasted much longer than the last.

Lily was the one who ended it by asking again, "Petunia, I asked what her name was?"

Petunia was visible annoyed now, but her pride was bigger than her anger so instead of showing it she just appeared flustered.

"I'm getting to it, Lily! She is just Baby Girl for the moment."

Petunia's voice sounded more screeching than speech, but showed no signs of any lurking guilt.

"She doesn't have a name yet!" Lily jerked in surprise, almost knocking 'Baby Girl' from the position she had taken nestled against her.

Petunia tutted.

"No she does not."

Lily's hated emerald eyes pulsed.

"You can't not name your child!"

The girl was jerked even more, and her little eyes opened in surprise. Lily began to hush her as Petunia worked her lips unceasingly.

"My child's name is none of your business, Lily."

"I know that Petunia, but from the looks of it _little Dudders_ over there is getting a lot more attention than she is. And that I'm not just going to keep quiet about."

Petunia was breathing very heavily now, and raised her piercing voice making good use of its scarily high pitch.

"You have been here fewer than ten minutes and you have the cheek, _the arrogance_, to insult my parenting. Will you look at yourself for a second Lily?"

The two sisters stood perfectly opposite to each other, complete stark opposites. The family resemblance didn't show. Petunia's angular face was slightly reddened, and appeared harsher than normal. Lily's oval face was very red, and her hands were clasped tighter around the child. The look they were giving each other, however, was identical.

At the worst possible moment, Harry clapped his hands together in a child's delight and revealed to Petunia a roll of his tiny pink tongue. Petunia scowled, and to add insult to injury James dared to say, "You know what you should call her. Lily."

Harry clapped his hands wildly at this notion. By this time the girl had started to clumsily try to hit her hands together as well. Both sisters glared at James for being so insensitive.

* * *

Strangely enough, Lily and James left shortly after that. James was swearing to Harry that he would never return to that house ever again, and Lily was sulking.

Only after Harry was soundly asleep in his cot did Lily open her mouth.

"James, what were you thinking saying that?"

James wandered into the kitchen and pretended to be preoccupied making tea, thinking to himself that it wouldn't be the end of the world if he ignored her for a little while.

Lily had followed him.

"James!"

James continued to ignore her.

"James," she repeated slamming her hand down on the side nearest to him.

James shuffled over the old oak cupboard and pulled out a quill and parchment.

_I thought we weren't speaking to each other_, he wrote, then held it up for her to see.

He mentally crossed his fingers, and sure enough Lily's face softened and she laughed.

"Well, now we are," she said leading him to the kitchen table.

They sat down next to each other and James answered her earlier question.

"I said she should name her Lily, because I genuinely think she should name her Lily."

Lily sighed and placed her hand on his.

"But you must have known that would upset her."

James wasn't much one for feeling, so he changed the subject.

"Do you think she should be called Lily?"

She looked straight at his eyes for a second, and her eyes were to James almost like pensieves. He could see right inside her for that moment.

"I don't think a name is worth the hassle."

"So, you agree then."

She shook her head, in only a half annoyed fashion.

"No, James. I do not agree."

"But you didn't disagree."

He smiled the cheeky smile he knew she loved, and she leaned in closer until her head was resting on his chest. The familiar scent of vanilla drifted from Lily's hair, and a comfort wafted over James.

"I'm worried about her James."

He stroked her head affectionately, wordlessly inviting her to go on.

"She doesn't belong there. The hair, the eyes, they will always set her apart to her parents. Petunia and Vernon, they will never treat her like they will Dudley. Did you see how Petunia avoided her? I worried she won't get the love she deserves, and that is all my fault."

She let out a wail at this point. James hushed her, and kissed the top of her head.

"How is it your fault? You are not making them act the way they are. If your sister is letting her feelings for you get in the way of her love for her child that is her problem, not yours. You are not responsible for your sister being a skinny old cow."

Lily smiled at his last sentence, but that of course was why he had put it in there.

"That as it may. It's still my actions that have led to an innocent child being treated as if she doesn't exist."

"We were only there for a short period of time. We can't know."

Lily cried again, "Yes, James. But it's not like there aren't enough clues."

James was silent and continued to stoke her head until she had calmed down again.

"Lily, she's their child. There isn't anything we can do, minus warning Harry so when they are both at Hogwarts, he will look out for her."

Lily peered up at him inquisitively.

"You think she'll end up at Hogwarts?"

James laughed, and lying on him, Lily felt the laugh ripple through her.

"There's clearly magic in the family, unless Vernon's half-worthwhile DNA has cancelled it out."

This idea raised a new idea in Lily's head, one she had never imagined before. One that was so radical, she didn't know how it would work. But she had to try.

"What if we just, you know, take her?"

James sat up suddenly, and Lily was jolted up with him. He was looking at her incredulously, because the tone of her voice was not made for a joke.

"You're not serious?"

Lily bit her lip, and looked to him for reassurance.

"Lily, you're supposed to be the grown up one. I'm the one that suggests crazy things like stealing babies!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt guilty. He grasped on to her, and held her, flinching every time he felt one of her salty tears falling onto his skin. Because he knew he had caused them. She was rocking gently backwards and forwards, and to stop her, he held her closer. It hurt for him to see her this way, she was the brave one. He whispered into her ear that he was sorry, and immediately her silent tears turned into sobbing.

"I want her to have a loving family James. I'm not crazy."

It was like footsteps on snowy ground. Muffled. It was something lesser than her emotions. Yet suddenly, her voice became clearer.

Filled with hope, she muttered, "James, muggles have something called social services."

"Social services?"

She took a deep breath then carried on, "Yes, social services. If parents are not treating their children properly, social services come and take them away. They take the children to a loving family!"

James's hands were still around her, but she noticed they felt a little colder.

"You want us to be social services?"

Lily looked at him, not knowing quite how to answer. She was longing for James to agree with her. The part of her that felt ashamed about her current thinking needed the justification. Desperately.

But James couldn't quite do that. He turned her around to face him, and looked at her seriously.

"How much do you want to do this?"

She didn't let out another tear, but met his gaze bravely.

"Right now, more than anything."

The silvery glint in her green eyes gave James an idea.

"Tell you what, if and when her eyes turn completely and utterly green, we will do everything in our power to take her out of there."

It was a compromise, but one Lily knew she should take.

* * *

Early in the morning on November 1st 1981, a date more than a year after the promise was made, Petunia toddled out of bed. While she sleepily entered her child's room, the Potters, Lily and James, turned in their graves. She bent down to face her daughter, unaware that another child would land on her doorstep later that day. She scanned the irises of her still unnamed child for the millionth time. Yet this time was different. This time was the time she would remember, as this time it had happened. Her daughter's eyes were completely and utterly green.

* * *

**Ooh what will happen next. You will have to wait and see!**

**Please rate if possible!**


	4. What We Will Do For Friends

**Thank you for reviewing, sorry for the late update – internet went down! **

**And in answer to power214063's question, I'm afraid they were killed by Voldemort.**

**Chapter 4 - What We Will Do For Friends**

The face that had always been carelessly handsome, was now firmly in the process of becoming gaunt, and it had taken only an instant. The man's long black hair had stuck itself to the back of his neck, with tears and sweat as the glue. The arrogant, ever so slightly spoiled look that had once been in his dark eyes was permanently replaced with one of a man embittered. As Sirius looked around the house that had belonged to his friends, his spirit wept.

They were the closest thing he had to a family, and he had lost them. He had lost his beloved brother. No, he hadn't lost them, they had been taken. Voldemort had taken them. He took their lives, and he, Sirius, had helped him do it. He was the one who suggested Peter become the secret keeper. He had practically thrown the Potters to their deaths. It was a huge thing for him to accuse himself of, but fortunately guilt was only a secondary emotion, if not Sirius would have been consumed by it. Sirius was not stupid, although he had kept up a good act for most of his school life, and therefore he knew and accepted that he, before this day, would have always trusted Peter. As James would have. Sirius knew he was not the marauder that let the Potters die, he was not the marauder who had betrayed them when they needed him most. He was not the rat.

At this thought, crimson red sparks burst out of Sirius's wand like seeds from a pod, splattering the area around. Sirius sighed and checked around for any damages. He was saddened to see that one of the blazes had hit a target, Lily and James's cupboard. Sirius took this as a warning. His temper was too explosive and at a time like this, could take him to where trouble lurked. He bent down to clear the mess, and saw three rectangular glints of gold, glimmering amongst the wreckage. Looking closer it became clear to Sirius they were golden envelopes, each addressed to a different person. Sirius held back another wave of anger as he recognised James's hauntingly familiar handwriting, and his hand dived through the broken shards of glass and splintered oak wood. He grasped onto the letter marked Sirius desperately, and opened it clumsily.

As he read, he laughed, he cried, he smiled and he wept. He felt emotion like he had never felt before. And when he finished, he felt stronger. For now it didn't matter what he wanted to do, he would do what they wanted him to do first. They certainly deserved that much. Lily and James had managed to open his heart once again, so with his rage was put on pause, and he was ready to perform the two tasks the letter had left for him.

Footsteps behind him interrupted his thought. However, as soon as he noticed them, they stopped. Whoever was standing behind him had stopped at the sight of him. They were equally as surprised, nay horrified that he was there as he was they were. Sirius would not turn around, knowing the newcomer purely from the sound of his breathing and the timing of his steps. He also knew he owed him something dearly, an apology. He was not the traitor, and Sirius could not believe he, he, had thought this because of Moony's unfortunate affliction. Maybe it was guilt that had frozen Sirius's every limb, or maybe it was stubbornness. Sirius didn't like to be wrong. A hoarse voice confirmed Sirius's suspicions.

"Sirius."

Sirius looked at the ground and said deeply, "Remus."

"Look at me, Sirius."

Sirius swallowed, and stood up, not prepared to crouch before anyone. They faced each other, and examined the signs of grief that were blindly present in each of them. Sirius noticed that Remus was more dishevelled, even than normal, and the grey had crept up on him over night engulfing a few more brown hairs. He looked ill, even though Sirius knew it wasn't the full moon yet. His eyes, generally deep and welcoming, were brimmed with sorrow.

"What are you doing here Sirius? You have no right after you betrayed them."

His words were laced with as much anger as Remus could lace words with, which Sirius knew was not a great amount. Moony's balanced nature was at opposites to his own mercurial one.

"I didn't betray them, Moony."

Remus stared at him. Remus was the ever trusting one, yet even he would not believe this.

"Sirius, you were their secret keeper. It must have been you."

Sirius noted the waver in Remus's voice, and knew Remus was not in complete conviction. He also noted that Remus hadn't taken his wand out yet, something you would certainly do if faced with a death eater, surely. Then again, if anyone would try to reason with a dark wizard, it would be Remus.

"Remus, I am all too eager to explain. If you will listen, that is."

Remus's hands shook.

"How do I know you will be telling the truth?"

Sirius was prepared for the question, and answered with a smile, "James always kept Veritaserum in that set of drawers behind you. Third drawer down."

* * *

He decided to do the easier, more pointless of the two tasks first. Sirius checked the time, it was only early, so he figured he could get in and out quickly without causing too much fuss. Unfortunately, he didn't remember Sunday was a day of rest for muggles, which would make it a little more difficult for him, in his coal black wizarding robes and deathlike state, go unnoticed, especially in a street with such a multitude of busybodies as this one.

Sirius scanned up and down the road, so quickly that it was almost sloppy. It took him three or four goes before he even saw any numbers.

"Number four, number four," he muttered to himself as he walked past rows of identical houses. Eventually he found it, and was not surprised to see that it was not dissimilar to all the other houses, with an equally fancy car and an equally well kept lawn. Sirius stomped towards the front door, trampling one unfortunate bed of red pansies, and knocked on the door loudly. There was no answer, so Sirius knocked again. Again there was no answer, and Sirius had to resist the overwhelming urge to apparate in. He was on the edge of letting this urge win when a loud, indecipherable grunt was audible behind the door. It was a man's voice. Gruff, and uncivilised. And when Sirius heard it again, the door was opened to reveal the face it belonged to.

Vernon Dursley was extremely sleepy, and angry to have been woken up at a time as early as nine o clock on a Sunday morning, but the shock of Sirius woke him up superbly.

His speech was not slurred now as he gasped and yanked Sirius inside violently.

"What are you doing here? Looking like this! The neighbours - Petunia!"

Petunia ran to her husband's side almost immediately, having of course already woken to care for the children. She was as angry as her husband at the sight of Sirius, although of course she was a lot less scary, being a beanpole rather than a man the size of a killer whale. Her usually high voice was wavering dangerously close to ultra sound as she bounded into a frenzied ramble about the wizarding world. Sirius interrupted her, in such a way that she thought him extremely rude.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley I presume."

Vernon nodded while cupping his fist in his hand, evidently to stop himself from punching Sirius clean in the face. He retorted gruffly, "A friend of her sister I presume."

Sirius ignored him. If all muggles were like these two, he could see why purebloods hated them and everything to do with them. He looked them up and down again and considered his options. He could tell them the bad news, and spend precious time talking to them what happened, or he could just go and do what needed to be done. Doubting the Dursleys would care about the Potters deaths, in fact they might even be happy that the black splodge on their family tree was taken care of, he decided to go for option two.

Sirius asked coolly, "Mr and Mrs Dursley, I know how much you were looking forwards to my company, but I'm afraid to say I'm actually here to see your daughter."

Petunia's mouth dropped open, and Vernon had to exert even more control to stay in command of his fists.

Vernon growled, "Look, we don't want any of your funny business. You are not seeing our daughter, nor is she ever going to have contact with any of you folk, thank you very much."

Petunia's face had now drained of any colour, but she was bobbing her head up and down in agreement with her husband.

Sirius sighed. Maybe, if they hadn't of caught him on such a bad day, or maybe if he was a bit more level headed like his friend Moony – he wouldn't have done what he was about to do.

Sirius looked Vernon straight in the eye and Vernon began to squint uncomfortably, not wanting to let Sirius know he was weak but also crushingly afraid of the power Sirius held. Sirius leaned over him threateningly, using his extra height to its greatest extent.

"I do have a wand you know," Sirius whispered, with a slight hint of enjoyment in his voice.

Vernon's knees simultaneously seemed to fail, and he collapsed to the floor, struck by fear. Petunia squealed and glided to her useless husband's side. Sirius ran up the stairs, without so much as a careless glance at the scene he was leaving behind.

He scanned the rooms much like he had scanned the street before, carelessly, constantly missing details. Silly, when what he was searching for was the easiest thing to miss. He went through every room again, stopping only once to laugh at the baby boy he had mistaken for a giant blotchy beach ball first time around. Eventually, after a solid _**two**_ minutes of searching, Sirius plonked himself down on Mr and Mrs Dursley's bed. He gritted his teeth, and punched the mattress in exasperation.

There was silence for a couple of seconds as Sirius reveled in the bang his action had caused, until soft clapping broke through into the room. Someone else was reveling in the bang as well. This thought made Sirius smile for a second, and then he continued his quest, this time following the noise.

She was sitting quietly, angelically, in the very corner of the very room that Dudley also was sat in. Sirius looked at her, turned away, then looked at her again, in total disbelief that he had managed to miss a child. He had stood in this room laughing at their son for a fair few seconds, how could he be blind to the child staring at him from her own little corner?

But he could not dwell on this thought for as long as his mind would have liked, he did not even dwell on the girl in front of him for long. Such was that he missed the red curls, he missed the almond shaped eyes. Unlike Lily had been, Sirius was emotionally detached, he did not think the child was special because she looked slightly like his friend. No, he believed you grew into yourself, and expected the child to grow into a snobby nosey cow like her muggle mother. He was in this because his friends had asked him to be, as they themselves couldn't be. He just had to perform the task at hand. He hesitated for a second. He wasn't good around children, they tended to make him feel uncomfortable. There was only one exception to that rule, and that was Harry. Lingering on Harry ended his pause, and he remembered why he was hurrying. He squatted down onto his knees and pulled his face up to meet hers. He then precisely positioned himself directly in front of her eyes, intending to examine them in much more detail than he had examined the rooms before.

However, he never managed to reach that stage, as he was taken aback by what was immediately apparent in her thoughtful gaze. He almost literally fell backwards, surprised to his very core. Shook to his very core. Those eyes were more emotive than James's handwriting, those eyes carried more memories, more dreams. And, one thing was truly for sure. They were indeed completely and utterly green. Sirius was disappointed himself for not holding the importance of that as highly as he should of done. He was disappointed in himself for underestimating the effect those eyes would have on him now Lily was dead and gone.

Unfortunately this meant there was more he had to do here before moving onto his next task.

* * *

**What is Sirius not doing on this day if he is with the baby? Just a passing thought…**


	5. Name

**Thank you for being so understanding! Have updated quickly this time in apology.**

**Chapter 5 - Name**

Sirius was still slumped over on the floor. He would have appeared to an unknowing eye to be in a daze, dazed by the memories those eyes held in their unusual shade. But anyone who knew Sirius, would know he was actually resting deep in his thoughts. He bit down hard on the corner of his mouth, almost in an attempt to steer himself away from the thought that perhaps the child was better off here. Seeing the girl had stirred more compassion in him than he had expected, and had taken him out of the obsessive cycle he had been trapped in only few seconds before. It would be stupid of him to take a child away from the safety of a muggle home, even if it was an unloving one. Surely Lily and James would not want him to throw their beloved niece to a world that had led to their death? A world that would now be reformed, but only for a short time. A world that it had not yet been proven she even belonged to.

He exhaled sharply as the needed ripple of pain reached him. The new twinge definitely had the desired effect, and Sirius grasped the baby roughly. His brain managed to control his impulse again as he reached the stairs, and he corrected his grip on the child so as not to drop her.

Petunia was breathing in a way that she would, under normal circumstances, have thought improper. Her breaths were short and sharp, and perfectly in time with each time she flickered her eyes, following each barely audible footstep from the floor above. Her hand was carefully placed on her husband's shoulder, in such a position that she did not think he would bother to throw it off. He would, of course, blame her for the appearance of such a strange, un-groomed individual. She noted all the signs in her husband's appearance to try and gauge his mood, as she often did. Vernon was not the type to share his feelings, so Petunia usually had to guess how he was feeling. It was normally anger, or pride, so it was not as difficult a job as Petunia told herself it was. This time it was most definitely anger, and a large amount of it. If the sickly, bruised purple that had washed over his face was not enough of a clue, she would have deduced it from the tracks of sweat traced over his forehead.

What she hadn't anticipated was that he was more fearful that she was. The lack of ease, the comfort he had lost. This was why he had not marched upstairs after Sirius immediately. This was why an overwhelming silence had now taken hold between the two of them.

Petunia's hand jerked back suddenly. She had heard Sirius bounding down their stairs, bounding with such energy, she was nervous of them breaking. She looked back at Vernon, noticing his head had risen from its previous dejected position. She had moved her hand away so swiftly, that she had simply missed his own nervous jerk.

"Hello again."

There was an edge to the apparent formality of man's tone, as if he was going to laugh. Petunia and Vernon both gulped, but only Petunia turned round, and faced the man. Vernon was already recovering from his first glimpse of the man's dark stare.

Petunia gasped as she noticed the bundle of joy, cradled in the man's robed arms.

"What are you doing with her? She is my child!"

Petunia clasped her hand over her mouth, but did not make any effort to obtain her child. The man twisted his body so the baby was not facing towards her mother, then answered, "Lily and James felt-, feel, that the child is not being cared for properly."

"How I care for my children is none of their business."

The rage was showing through the lining of fear now, with Petunia's tone becoming less like a whine. Her sister's name had that effect on her.

Her sister's accomplice looked to be in a bit of hurry, and he sighed, irritated.

"Look. I honestly don't care how or why you care for your children. But Lily was, is, extremely guilty over the fact that you are mistreating your daughter purely because she looks like her."

Hatred was truly oozing out of every pore in Petunia's body now. Hatred for her sister, hatred for her husband, but mostly hatred for this man. The man who had burst her bubble of delusion. This hatred was far too visible as she lied, "Really, I hadn't noticed the resemblance."

The stranger chuckled deeply, and fixed her with a slightly cool, detached look. Too cool for it to dig into her so deep. After he had stopped laughing, he said arrogantly, "Then why haven't you named her yet."

Petunia's throat locked, and the man smiled.

"No name seemed to fit, did it? Don't worry, I'll be more than happy to name her for you."

Petunia shook vigorously all over, but especially in the facial area. She shook her head from side to side, so vigorously it looked painful. Yet the stranger pretended he didn't understand what she meant. Her fiercely locked throat managed to force out some gurgled words. Yet the stranger ignored this struggle also. In a last attempt, Petunia whirled around and screeched as piercingly as she could at her husband. But he had given up, and was still sat broken on the floor.

"That's right. I name her Lily Evans Dursley. Be thankful I didn't name her a Potter."

Petunia bowed her head as the man spoke one last sentence, and then he left, taking the 'baby girl' she knew had always been Lily, with him.

* * *

Sirius strolled into number twelve Grimmauld Place, feeling rather pleased with himself. He strolled down the first lengthy reception corridor, past the portrait of his mother, completely ignoring the shrill scream of 'Mudblood' as she caught sight of Lily. The corridor was dark, and the house held such horrible memories for him, yet Lily seemed to wipe them all away simply by flashing him her knowing smile. With James and Lily gone, she was like a bolt of hope to him – filling the derelict house with her warm presence. He was still in mourning, yet he was living for her. He laughed as he realised the track his thoughts were choosing. It was not what he had expected, especially as he had thought James and Lily had been crazy to ask him to save her, just a few short hours ago. He reminded himself of his theory that people grew into themselves, but surprised himself by immediately coming up with another equally persuading theory. People were not always like their parents. He of all people knew that. He was a little ashamed that a child won him over so easily, but with one that bared such resemblance to Lily, at a time like the present, maybe it was inevitable.

He stepped down the narrow, treacherous stone steps to the basement carefully so as not to trip. He had been known to. He was not surprised to see that the kitchen opened up before him was coated in dirt and dust on every surface. Since he had volunteered the house for use by the Order of the Phoenix, Kreacher, his family's old house elf had refused to do any cleaning. Sirius supposed this would have to change if Lily was going to stay with him. After many attempts, he managed to conjure a high chair near to the fireplace so that Lily did not get cold. It took him so long because he didn't know how to conjure a high chair, or even really what a high chair looked like.

He checked the time. It was already two o clock, Remus should have been there by now. As important as Sirius's next task was, he couldn't leave a one year old all by herself. He needed Remus to look after her, yet he was not back. What could he be doing? Sirius pondered on the fact that it was highly unusual for Moony to ever be late for anything, let alone something as important as this.

Half an hour later, Moony had still not arrived, and Sirius had prepared himself to wait. He was slouched with his feet outstretched on his parents' precious mahogany table, tapping his fingers repeatedly on his thigh. Kreacher tutted at this scruffy position and appearance as he brought Sirius his tea and newspaper, which Sirius took without so much as a thank you. Kreacher was then happy to shuffle in the dingiest depths of Grimmauld Place, far out of Sirius's sight. Luckily he hadn't noticed Lily, much as Sirius hadn't when he first met her, so he didn't raise a fuss about Sirius bringing a muggle's child into the house. Sirius noticed this, and wondered for a second why Lily seemed to have this effect on people. It was as if you could only see her, if you already knew she was there.

She seemed to realise he was looking at her, and stretched her deep pink lips into an open smile. He was surprised, yet pleased at her reaction, and decided to smile back. This seemed to fill her with joy and she began to clap her hands together wildly. Sirius wasn't quite deep enough to think that maybe, because Lily had been ignored her whole life, just a smile acknowledgement like a smile, meant the world to her. So when he picked her up from her chair and cuddled her, she began to laugh. And she laughed the most beautiful laugh.

After a few minutes of this playing, Sirius sat down again, aware that his tea was surely beginning to get cold. He knew this was not as important as Lily, but he also figured she wouldn't mind him taking a short break. And so Sirius raised the well deserved cup of tea to his lips, and lifted the latest edition of the Daily Prophet up to his face.

But he didn't get to drink his tea, because next thing he knew, there was a crash as the cup it had been held in shattered into a million pieces on the table. Sirius flinched as the tea scorched his leg, but he didn't shout out, worried about disturbing Lily – or worse getting Kreacher to reappear. His searing leg was irrelevant when you compared it to what he now knew. Sirius stretched painfully to read the rest of the article, but was risen by Lily's cries. She had seen him hurt, despite his best efforts to hide it from her.

Abandoned on the table, trapped in the Daily Prophet's front page, a man with patched robes and greying brown hair was struggling to free from the chains that bound him.

**Bit a of shorter chapter I'm afraid, and a bit of a cliffie at the end. Please keep reviewing, I really appreciate it!**


	6. Remus

**Sorry it has been so long everyone, I apologise. Hopefully I won't take as long updating again.**

**Chapter 6 – Remus**

"Third drawer down?" asked Remus, though he did indeed know this was what Sirius had instructed. Sirius seemed acutely aware of this, and gritted his teeth as he repeated, "James always kept Veritaserum in the set of drawers behind you. Third drawer down."

But Remus remained stationary. Staring straight through Sirius's sombre eyes, searching for some clue to what lay beneath. Analysing every motion, every twitch, for some sign as to what his comrade could have been thinking. He longed to find something, anything – that could let him trust Sirius as he always had. It broke his heart that he was currently unable to. However, for all his emotion, Remus was logical, and logic told him that not taking his wand out now would be not far short of moronic. It was purely a precaution after all, Sirius would understand that! Reluctant, Remus lifted his wand out of his robe pocket and pointed it at such an angle more hitting the ground than Sirius himself. This action pained Remus far more than it did Sirius, who would have had his wand out in an instant in Remus's position.

Remus peered briefly over his shoulder, then stepped slowly backwards towards an ancient mahogany cabinet. He stretched – with his non-wand hand of course - for the bronze handle of the drawer and attempted to ease it open. With only one hand of course, this became a great difficulty. He persevered, however the drawer only squeaked and wobbled, apparently indisposed to revealing its contents at all.

When Remus was sufficiently red, Sirius smiled, "You've got the wrong drawer, Remus. That's the second drawer, which – as you have noticed, doesn't open."

While reaching for the correct drawer, Remus replied, "Sirius, why didn't you tell me earlier. This is hardly the time for jokes."

"What joke? I told you the right drawer. All you had to do was open it."

Remus sighed heavily, and pulled open the comparatively loose third drawer. He kept one eye on Sirius as he looked down at the multitude of potions before him. Colourless, and odourless. Colourless and odourless. Remus recited out loud as he scanned each single bottle, occasionally holding one to his nose or up into the brightest light in the room.

'Ah-ha!" he said suddenly. He held up the smallest of the vials, and shaking it lightly.

Sirius began to walk towards him, but Remus rose his wand higher in protest.

Remus noticed the sudden bemusement on Sirius's face, along with the tightening of his muscles as he stopped abruptly. But Remus was doing what he believed was best. At least at this moment in time.

He moved forwards and left the bottle in the centre of the room, then backed away again. When he reached his original position, he motioned for Sirius to drink the potion. Solemn, Sirius nodded and remained completely respectful of Remus's wishes. Remus was indeed heartened by the fact that Sirius only moved when he was happy for him to do so.

Sirius gulped the potion down immediately. Soon the whole bottle was gone, although a drop of Veritaserum is more than enough to force to speak only the truth. Remus realised Sirius was aware of this, but had chose to drink every drop as a sign of his eagerness. Or as Remus hoped, a sign of his soon to be proved innocence.

Sirius then threw the vial forcefully to the floor. The following crash was inevitable, and Remus sighed. Sirius liked to be dramatic, however it did not always work out well for him.

Sirius flinched, then turned to stare at Remus expectantly.

There were so many questions, so many stories Remus could make Sirius tell. Hell, a few years back a situation involving this particular truth potion in this particular friend, would have been a laugh. It would have been fun. James would have made it so. James would have been able to think of the most hilarious of questions, and would have humiliated Sirius in the most brilliant of ways. Like, "Have you Yet they would still back each other on the back afterwards. So deep did that friendship run. However Remus did not possess James's mind, nor James himself – so was much more suited to a situation such as this one. Serious, pressing questions with a clear, delving purpose would fall out of Remus's mouth effortlessly.

"Is your name Sirius Black?"

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Was that question really necessary Remus?"

Remus cocked his neck, amused.

"You know it was, Sirius. I can call you Sirius, now I know. Oh – and also, do you have a middle name? I'd like to use that one as well."

Sirius did not look even vaguely amused, or shocked by this wayward request. Surprising, Remus thought, since his middle name was a secret he had been attempting to conceal as long as he had known him. He had even cast a spell to conceal his middle initial on his family tree. Yet, at times like this he supposed there were more pressing worries to attend to, which explained why Sirius answered instantaneously.

"Pumpernickel."

His voice was cleverly disguised as indifferent, but a friend as old, and as observant as Remus could not fail to spot an undertone of shame. Remus smiled, but remained calm, and moved on to more important questions.

"Did you love Lily and James?"

Sirius grunted, appearing to feel pain at the mention of their names. Remus had a plain view of Sirius's snapping heart, while he felt his break in an indistinguishable way. With that, Remus knew the answer he was going to hear.

"Of course I loved them. James wasn't just like a brother, he was my brother. And Lily – well Lily became a sister as soon as James laid eyes on her. They meant the world to me, Remus. I could have never done anything, anything to harm them!"

Remus could see Sirius was a broken man. Physically, it was clear, his once glimmering eyes had burnt themselves out, his skin was drained of all colour and his face was sallower. He appeared a ghost of his former self. But, emotionally, he was yet more damaged. A man such as this was not the one to have committed the crime, Remus thought. He regained a little strength from this consolidation of trust. He even plucked up the spirit to smile, as he said, "Well, Sirius. I would love an account of what did happen."

* * *

"Peter. Peter did this."

"Yes, Peter Pettigrew killed James and Lily."

Sirius bared his teeth as he answered. He appeared to redden a little, and his breath grew deeper and sharper. He was clearly extremely angry. Knowing Sirius's volatile nature, Remus would not be surprised if the remains of Peter Pettigrew were to be buried shortly. Remus decided he would not object to this, although his moral compass told him Peter's fate was not for him, or anyone, to decide.

With great energy, Sirius clasped his hand around Remus's shoulder. He looked up at Remus, searching for help.

"I'm worried, Moony. I want to kill him. I don't know if I will be able to stop myself."

Remus could understand the stuggle he was experiencing. There was a part of him that wanted to make Peter suffer, in the way the Potters had, but he could control it. It was more in Remus's nature to want to talk to Peter. To try and understand his motivation.

"Can't we just try to talk to Peter, first? See what happened from his side?"

Sirius breathed sharply and growled, "You cannot reason with a death-eater, Remus. Not even if they used to be a friend."

Sirius was right of course. And Remus understood his stance. If he had loved the Potters anymore than he had, he did not know if he would be able to contain his anger. And Sirius had loved the Potters on a level currently unbeknownst to Remus. A level so far above anything Remus could imagine.

"They left me a letter."

Remus raised his eyebrows.

"A letter?"

"Yes. Trust them to prepare for the circumstances of their deaths," Sirius whispered, because he could not bring himself to speak any louder.

"What did the letter say?"

Sirius's hand dropped from his shoulder and flew to comfort his eyes, which Remus suspected were now leaking. Sirius then sniffed, and pulled his head up to face Remus's.

"Nothing important."

Remus was sure the Veritaserum had now worn off.

"Except – they left me two tasks if you will. One to be performed under a certain condition, and the other, well I'm sure you would agree the other must be performed immediately."

From the tone of his voice, Remus could tell Sirius did not wish to divulge any information about the nature of these two mysterious tasks. Therefore he did not attempt to pressurise him into doing so. He instead decided to impart some wisdom of his own.

"Then, maybe you should focus on doing these two tasks, rather than trying to take revenge for James and Lily. If they wanted you to do that, they would have left that as a task. Yet clearly they have other things in mind. You would surely be honouring them more by obeying them? We may not want to wait another long second to talk to Peter, but that doesn't mean Lily and James wouldn't want us to."

Remus felt like he was convincing himself as much as he was Sirius. On cue, Sirius nodded weakly.

"That is what I will do. Could I ask you a favour, Moony?"

Remus pressed his hand into his chest and sighed deeply.

"You would be doing me an honour in doing so. I still feel guilty for suspecting you."

Sirius returned his hand to Remus's shoulder, this time not in desperation, but in affection.

"We thought the same of you, remember. So neither should have any reason to feel guilty."

The silence was heart-breaking as both friends looked to each other, then seeked solace in staring at the cold stone floor. Though Sirius said neither should feel guilty, they both felt more guilt than they had ever felt. Guilt for being so close, but missing the mark. Guilt for suspecting a true friend, but trusting a false one. They should have been able to see it. Yet they would never have been. Sirius's guilt ran deeper, for he was the one to decide on the change of secret keeper, was he not? They should have been able to stop it. Remus was shaken by how little he had known about his 'friend' Peter. His skin was crawling, longing for some sort of insight into his state of mind.

"Could you meet me at Grimmauld place at two o clock?" Sirius asked. His face had not raised from the floor, a sign his thoughts has not raised from their previous position also. Remus nodded, also without lifting his head.

Sirius appeared to then pull his head up by his hair, and shuffled to the door. His energy levels were rising at this point, and he watched at the motionless Remus, amused.

"Don't be late," he teased, before rushing away to perform his first task.

He did not wait to see Remus finally glance ahead. And he certainly did not wait for Remus's whispered answer.

"I wouldn't for all the world."

He froze again, before speaking more confidently.

"But I have someone I want to talk to first."


	7. Conspiracy

**Thank you everyone for reading. Enjoy the new update!**

**Chapter 7 – Conspiracy**

Exhausted after smiling and clapping to Lily's satisfaction, Sirius once again lifted the Daily Prophet from the table. He flinched as he read the headline.

**_'WEREWOLF STRIKES DOWN 12 AT 12'_**

Sirius scowled at the multiple references to Remus's lycanthropy before scanning further down the page. He looked past _'the attractive and talented journalist Rita Skeeter investigates'_, past the picture that confirmed the identity of the criminal as his friend, until he finally reached details of the event itself.

_'The attacker violently pushed his way through the crowds of muggles on the street before reaching the wand-less Peter Pettigrew, He then verbally assaulted him in a most terrible way causing the victim to cower before him, before casting a spell that caused only young Mr Pettigrew's finger to be left. If that weren't enough of a crime, this spell also took the lives of twelve innocent muggles.'_

Sirius's mouth had fallen open involuntarily. The event had clearly been exaggerated for the tabloid, and yet – there must be some basis. Soon, also against Sirius's wishes, his eyes were red and damp. Remus had been the one to advise him not to kill Pettigrew, if not Sirius was sure he would have. Was this only so Remus would get the change to avenge James and Lily personally? No, Sirius couldn't believe that. Not of Remus. Not of a lifelong friendship that had so newly repaired itself. His initial paranoia slowly moved itself into the safer realm of logic. And logic told him he knew Remus. And more importantly he knew his nature. This was completely polar opposed to it. Remus was a calming influence. Naturally passive, maybe even bordering on pacifist. Although perhaps that was only in Sirius's opinion, since he was extremely un-pacifist. Nevertheless Remus would not fight unless it was necessary, and he would certainly not kill for revenge.

_'A classmate has confirmed the crazed mass-murderer is afflicted with werewolfism. Werewolfism is closely associated with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The death-eater is also likely to be responsible for the deaths of Lily and James Potter, of whom he was said to be a 'close personal friend'._

The lack of proper terms was not as much of a worry to Sirius as it would have been in a normal article. Normally the use of the term 'werewolfism' would have irritated him endlessly, however now the content of the text bothered him more. The first passage had stirred in him disbelief, but this passage was saturated with such blatant and outright lies - it was unbearable. Laughable even. It ached for Remus to be blamed for the deaths of friends he loved so dearly. And it pained Sirius that he was actually questioning whether or not Remus had in fact killed Pettigrew. He should know he hadn't. Wouldn't, even.

Sirius reread the first passage, focusing his attention one sentence in particular. The most unrealistic sentence of many unrealistic sentences.

_'This spell also took the lives of twelve muggles.'_

Lily pursed her lips together and made a humming sound. Sirius grinned lightly and turned towards her.

"I think you're right, Lily," he said, pressing her nose affectionately.

Lily blinked in surprise, but recovered swiftly and patted her hands together.

"Yes. You are definitely right. I'm going to trust you intuition. There is not a chance Uncle Moony killed twelve innocent people. He couldn't. However, ex-Uncle Ratbag on the other hand."

Lily stopped clapping, and her and Sirius stared at each other. Sirius formed new ideas in his head, while the now quiet and attentive Lily watched.

Sirius paced the distance of the room over and over, occasionally glancing over the article again as he did so. While in this routine, he inadvertently found a previously overlooked line. One that instilled his convictions.

'The killer claims he was only trying to talk to Pettigrew about an incidence that occurred between the two.'

Sirius looked at Lily and shook his head.

"I did tell him not to try and negotiate with death-eaters, didn't I?"

His tone was angry, yet this was neatly concealed behind amused irritation. Probably for Lily's sake.

"Well I guess we're going to have to be the ones to get him out of this mess, aren't we?"

Lily beamed as he looked at her, giving him an unobstructed view of her saliva-coated tongue. Normally this would have disgusted Sirius, especially as a drop of this unpleasant liquid dribbled from the corner of her mouth, eventually falling to the ground from her chin. And yet it didn't. It only made the necessity of him leaving her more insufferable. For Sirius's conscience would not let him leave Remus in his current situation. Although it would be easy for him to. He could take Lily, complete his other task, then set up a family somewhere. He could try to live out his life. Try to focus his energy making a future for him and his children. Instead, he was forced to save his friend, an act that could potentially stop his future from ever becoming a reality. He might never be reunited with Lily.

It would hardly be appropriate to bring an infant along anyway. Not for image purposes, Sirius had moved far beyond trivial matters such as that. No, it was not appropriate for Lily's sake. What if something were to happen to her? What if they found out she had been 'abducted'? For Sirius was sure the Ministry would not look too kindly on Lily and James's form of social services. No, Lily must not accompany him. Concentrating on the practical reasons for finding a carer for Lily helped Sirius overlook his true worries.

However, Sirius did not know where to take her. There was no spare marauder to step up as there always had been previously. Sirius had never made any other friends to fall back on. He had assumed they would always be there to aid him. And no true marauder would have any qualms of taking care of Lily, though she was a stolen child. Any person of reasonable sense, however, that was a different matter. He contemplated leaving her with Kreacher, but decided considering her status as a muggle child, this was probably not the best of ideas. He did not trust Kreacher's morality, and suspected one cry of 'Mudblood' from his mother's portrait, would cause Kreacher to betray his order. Kreacher could lovingly care for her, or he could choose to do the worst of the opposites. Sirius did not like to think of the many twisted fates that could befall this most innocent child from his one buffoonish act.

One possibility lurked in a normally unused area of Sirius's mind. In an area he preferred not to use, that is. For this was the place where Sirius stored ideas he would call 'not up to his usual immaculate standards'. These were ideas that had such countless flaws, Sirius preferred to forget they had even come out of his head in the first place. The pranks had not wanted credit for, the ones blamed on Peter, had always come from this place. This idea was particularly idiotic, Sirius felt.

Nevertheless, this was what Sirius unwillingly chose to do.

* * *

Sirius coughed whilst appearing in the familiarly cool emerald flames. He stepped carefully out of the fireplace, and wiped wandering ash from his shoulders. Sirius hated to travel by Floo Network. It was messy, and definitely did not agree with his throat. However, it was the only way to access the Ministry of Magic. Spells had been conjured to protect the building from apparition. It was a method of controlling the area, to protect it from people who need not be there. A fairly useless method Sirius decided, since it had been too easy for him to get there by floo powder.

The room he had entered was darkened. It was fairly late on a short autumn day, so Sirius did not think much of this. The workers had left, also explaining why the place appeared deserted, so the lights had been dimmed. Therefore, Sirius did not think any more of it. His eyes solely searched around him, before he continued to stride across the room.

Suddenly Sirius halted, and he clasped hand around his wand tightly. He had heard the distinct clicking of heels over the Ministry's characteristic marble floor. His eyes flickered more furtively, and he even reached his hand out into the blackness. Only silence answered his efforts. Therefore he continued to move. Nothing was to further arouse his suspicions.

Nothing, that is, until the opportune moment aroused. The moment when each employee was perfectly in place. The moment when the werewolf's accomplice had reached his needed position. The moment the ambush could be deployed flawlessly, and the man with a pale, angular face and cold blond hair could turn on the lights.

* * *

As Sirius Black fought Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry of Magic, Petunia Dursley watched her reflection carefully in her downstairs mirror. She made sure her smile was painted on properly, so that nobody would have any reason to guess at the events of the day. For the door-bell had just rung, and she did not want her visitor to presume anything untoward. Patched-up Petunia did not know anything of a preposterous 'Magical World', and patched-up Petunia knew her daughter to be purely out for the day, not kidnapped. Patched-up Petunia would be the one to travel out into the realm of the front door, while true Petunia waited deep inside.

However, Patched-up Petunia opened the door to see no visitor awaiting her. In fact, Patched-up Petunia saw nothing at all in front of her. Only when true Petunia swiftly emerged was the reality clear.

There were two bundles placed side by side on her doorstep. Both tiny, both breathing. Both with letters placed on top of them. One was a detailed letter outlining her sister's fate, and how Petunia could protect the life of her wizarding nephew. The other was a hastily drawn up note. It contained only one line.

_Take care of her well. I will be back. For both of them. _

* * *

**There were some twists there, weren't there? Please review, I really apprechiate any feedback as it helps me to develop as a writer!**

**Thanks!**


	8. Dudley's Birthday

**Chapter 8 – Dudley's Birthday**

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had found their nephew and their stolen daughter on the front doorstep, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The garden was as tidy as it had ever been, and the brass number four on the doorway sparkled as it always had. The house was as uniform, as lifeless as those surrounding it. However this house was vastly different from those around it. For within this house resided two very unique spirits. Two very unique spirits within two perfectly ordinary eleven year old children.

The first was a boy. His appearance was nothing more than average. He was small and skinny for his age, but not so much that anyone could stop or stare. It was not so bad to suggest malnutrition, so there was not a potential for interest there either. In fact much of his sickly appearance was generated by his aunt, who chose to dress him in her huge son's hand me downs. There was no doubt that his legs were thin, too thin. At certain angles his knees appeared wider than his thigh itself. His hair was black, and he had a jagged scar on his forehead. This was one of the few parts of the boy's appearance that pleased him. For, it is 'cool' to have a scar at age eleven, especially one shaped like a lightning bolt. The only other trait Harry liked was his eyes. His bright emerald-green eyes. Or more specifically, their emerald-green eyes.

For Harry Potter was not the only child at number 4 cursed with this particular affliction. The second child was a girl, and she too possessed a green gaze.

The colour stemmed from the same recessive gene, and therefore, when the cousins stared the same way, or held the same expression, the effect could be unforgettable to onlookers. Especially when those onlookers included a certain Petunia Dursley.

Often when Petunia was alone, and the house was quiet, flashes of this phenomenon would silently return to haunt her. Flashes of every single time she had experienced it. It was amazing how its effect never grew less strong. This was what plagued her on the morning of Dudley's birthday. And it was this that caused her to wake Harry and Lily up so forcefully.

* * *

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Petunia's shill voice caused Lily with a start.

"Up!" she screeched again, before knocking loudly on the door of the bedroom.

Lily remained on her back with her eyes tightly closed, yet she called back clearly, "I'm awake."

Lily groaned as the door was then forced open. Petunia glanced cuttingly at her from outside it.

"When I said awake, I meant actually out of bed."

Petunia's voice grew higher and higher as she continued to speak, and Lily quickly recognised this sign of irritation. Normally Lily would have carefully noted this as a sign that her mother was becoming more and more infuriated. Lily would then be sure to behave obediently. But today Lily had more courage than she usually did. Because today was the one day of the year Lily hated the most. Today was her birthday. Or more realistically, today was Dudley's birthday. So Lily remained in bed, thinking she would at least witness how irritated she could make her mother, before finally submitting to her wishes.

Lily knew she irritated her mother. She had always known it. But this was the first time she had intentionally tried to anger her. Every other time had been inadvertent. Lily knew she angered her because her hair was red, not the angelic blond colour Dudley's hair was. Lily remembered the many times Petunia had attempted to dye her hair. The first time she could remember was at about six, when Petunia had 'accidentally' poured some of her peroxide bleach onto Lily's head. Considering it was supposedly an accident, Petunia was not exactly relieved when Lily's hair remained as dark and deep a red as it had always been. From then on it hadn't mattered what dye fell on to her hair – blonde, brown, permanent, semi-permanent – none captured even a single strand of her hair.

Lily had thought, when she learnt of the devil in school, that perhaps her red hair was a mark of the devil. For red is associated with fire, and therefore with hell. She had thought for a while that she was cursed, and this was why her mother had wanted to change her hair colour. For her own good, since she was her mother and therefore must only have her best interests at heart. But incessant reassurance from Harry that this was not how it worked, enabled her to see that Petunia simply disliked her hair colour for some reason.

Her insistence to lay in bed did not anger Petunia half as much as her hair always seemed to, yet despite Lily's initial determination, it was only after a few more orders of "Up!", that Lily was frightened enough to make her way downstairs.

There was a sharp sizzle as she entered the kitchen, accompanied by a high pitched squeal. She first laughed as she saw her cousin attempting to cook bacon, but quickly rushed to his aid. The intensely hot oil had flown out of the pan causing a patch of skin on his arm to pulse red. Yet, in true Harry style, instead of nursing his injury, he was continuing to prepare the breakfast. Wilfully, Lily pulled his arm away from the hob and under the cold water.

Harry groaned.

"Lily, I can do it. Don't worry about me."

Lily blinked at him before flipping over the bacon.

There was a little more protestation from Harry, before he sighed and left his arm where Lily had first placed it.

"Happy birthday."

Although the phrase was one that should contain much joy and celebration, Harry's voice was wistful, and Lily did not turn around to face him.

She merely whispered, "Thank you," before opening the fridge to fetch some eggs to fry. She picked up a half dozen, before remembering that on Dudley's birthday – she was better off with a full dozen.

Silence followed, but Harry was not willing to forget about his previous statement. Not yet.

"I got you a present."

Lily stopped what she had been doing.

"How?"

Harry looked puzzled, and so Lily repeated herself.

"I mean, how did you have the means to?"

Harry beamed, and Lily could see he was extremely proud of himself. She suspected it likely that there was some sort of scheme at the root of this pride, and she herself was interested to hear what this scheme was. Harry was an obedient young boy, but he did enjoy a good prank. Lily knew she was somewhat of an enabler to this, as she enjoyed one too. And it doesn't feel half as scary to do something with another person as it does to do something alone. Alone Lily would not have had the confidence to do any of the jokes her and Harry had done in the past. She was sure of that. But she was also sure that Harry would not have had the courage to do any of them either. Perhaps they complemented each other.

"I made it."

This short sentence told Lily the true root of Harry's pride. This true root explained wholly why Harry seemed so much more proud of this scheme than he had been of the past hundred. He had not tricked anyone, but had used his own initiative to make his own present for his dear cousin. He was proud that he had found a way to make his cousin happy, on a day she was always so miserable.

He then threw his hand into his pocket, where it was soon invisible under excess material. The colossal size of the shorts he was wearing had meant she had not noticed the newspaper-wrapped parcel he now happily presented to her.

Lily was very restrained in her motions. She twitched occasionally, as each new emotion washed roughly over her. It was clear she was desperately happy to receive a gift, yet she did not reach out to snatch the present as a normal eleven year old girl would. This was because Lily had never received a birthday present before. Not a proper present anyway. She had often received Dudley's leftovers. For Dudley recieved such an extortinate amount of gifts each year, not all of them could possibly be up to his superior standards. Lily had grown accustomed to pairs of ill fitting socks or foul smelling bath products - ones she must be sure to remember were still in fact Dudley's possessions, and ones she was obliged to return if Dudley wished her to. If he did, it was not because he wanted the gift, but because he did not want anyone else to have it. But having never recieved a gift specifically for her, she had limited knowledge of how to accept it. And, considering the natures of the people around her, she had even less knowledge of how to accept it graciously.

She bit her lip, and attemped to grasp ahead of her. Instead she found herself speaking.

"You didn't have to Harry. I know how difficult it must have been for you. You should have just made me a card, like we do every year."

Harry peered tentatively at her through his saucer shaped glasses.

"I know I didn't have to. But I wanted to."

Signalled, Lily felt she now had permission to do what she had been longing to do all along. She gripped her fingernails into the newspaper wrapping and pulled it clean off.

"Finally!" Harry laughed.

Lily's eyes widened as she caught sight of a small object, where previously there had only been wrapping. She gently flicked it onto her palm, and carefully raised it to her eyes. This movement caused it to unravel, causing it to become clear to Lily what the object was. It was a necklace.

It was clearly homemade – you could tell from the darkened ribbon which had been utilised as a chain. Unsteadily Lily tested the clasp, finding did indeed catch slightly.

And yet, it was still perfect. Still beautiful. It had been chosen so thoughtfully, from the length of the ribbon to the size of the thing. It held so much individuality, so much sentiment. The stone resting from its chain, though not precious nor semi-precious, appeared like a flawlessly crafted teardrop. Although it was green, of course. When Harry and Lily eventually managed to get the clasp to function correctly, it matched her eye colour so well they became even more prominent than before.

"Thank you so much," Lily whispered, flinging her arms around her beloved cousin.

After the two cousins had separated, Lily asked.

"How did you craft this? It is beautiful."

Harry chuckled, and proceeded to wear what Lily believed to be his finest expression of false bemusement.

"You think I am not talented enough to create something so nice?"

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but after thinking for a moment replied, "Well, honestly yes."

Harry wilted and turned away from her. Lily was not sure if Harry was being genuine, or a just being a complete toad. Since he had just shown such a gesture of affection, she decided to let him hold the benefit of the doubt.

"But it is clear you are. I mean, you are that talented, for you did create this."

Her speech was hurried, and she placed her hand on Harry's shoulder.

Instantaneously, Harry began to giggle wildly. Lily allowed her hand to drop from his shoulder, and she sighed. She waited for Harry's inevitable following words.

"Ha! Tricked you!"

Lily rolled her eyes, and asked, "Well how did you make it then?"

"John helped me."

"Oh! I must thank him later," Lily said.

She should have expected it really. Mr John Smith, their neighbour and current babysitter, was always so kind to her and Harry. He had been since he moved in last year.

* * *

When Harry left Lily to collect the post, instead of being gloomy as she had been previously - she was now smiling and humming to herself. Harry was hoping the post this morning could broaden that smile of hers - by bringing her a birthday card or sentiment. As much as she claimed his were the only affections that mattered, he knew she secretly longed for a letter meant for her.

He crouched down and swept up the scatter of envelopes that coated the floor. While neatly sorting them into an pile as was acceptable to Aunt Petunia, he checked each one. He scanned each name and each address for a mention of Lily.

However, each and every letter was addressed to Dudley - no doubt all wishing him luck as he embarked upon his eleventh year in this world.

Bit of a time jump! Hope you enjoyed it - please review I really do **appreciate **it!


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